


Strip Poker At Buckingham Palace

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Buckingham Palace, Cuddling & Snuggling, Favors, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Irene Owes Molly, Long Day For Molly, Minor Mycroft Holmes, Molly Hooper Loves Irene Adler, Molly Hooper Loves Sherlock Holmes, Molly Saves the Day, Mostly Naked Cuddling, Mostly Naked Irene, Mostly Naked Sherlock, Multi, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Napping, Phone Calls & Telephones, Polyamory, Relationship History, Sherlock Owes Molly, Strip Poker, Victorious Molly, You Owe Me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 11:50:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14236659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: When Molly gets a call from Mycroft that her lovers have gotten into a...situation...involving Her Majesty, she does what she can to get them out with their dignity intact.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katiebuttercup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiebuttercup/gifts).



> So this fic was asked for by **katiebuttercup** , with a specific picture (posted below) used as inspiration and tooth-rotting fluff where " _Irene and Sherlock into shenanigans at Buckingham palace and Molly gets a phone call and has to collect them (Sherlock’s in his sheet Irene in sherlocks coat) and Molly is exasperated and annoyed but so in love with her two idiots_." I hope this works for her!

**Three Hours Ago**

It had been a long day for Molly. Double shift at Barts, and then having to take Toby to the vet because he was lethargic. Turned out that the time Irene had accidentally let Toby out of the house and into the rainy backyard where he’d hidden for two hours had caused him to get an upper respiratory infection, and that meant she would have to wrangle with the cat and convince him it was in his best interest to take his pills for a few weeks.

And she had gotten home to find the bed she shared with Sherlock and Irene had been left unmade, there was no dinner ready and the wine that she saved for special occasions was empty.

All three bottles.

She was going to kill them both, she swore to God.

Not that she hated them. Dear Lord, no. It had been a complicated situation, after Sherlock had admitted he loved her while his sister threatened to blow her up, how she had replied that she loved him too and it was implicit she always had, how they had an awkward conversation after his return that while he loved her he loved someone else, too, in a different way. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the “someone else” was Irene Adler; she’d heard the moaning ringtone from her bedroom when he borrowed it, and John had made a big deal of Sherlock texting The Woman on Sherlock’s birthday before everything changed.

Love meant, to Molly, that you never asked for something that would make your partner unhappy. And it wasn’t as though she and Sherlock were even partners as well. So she said she appreciated his feelings but if he wanted Irene she would step aside.

She just hadn’t considered Irene would be unhappy with the arrangement.

And thus she had found a stunning brunette on her doorstep, saying they had things to discuss regarding their mutual love interest. She had been surprised Irene would use the word love regarding Sherlock, but she said while she’d never admitted it to him, that’s what he was: someone she was in love with. But she’d stop him from being an idiot and tossing away a perfectly good relationship with someone who was actually _there_ who would use words like “love” and “special.”

And through that conversation, initially with just the two women but later including Sherlock, they decided to try something a little different: a polyamorous relationship between all three of them.

Molly had never dreamed that would be her life but now, years later, she couldn’t imagine it any other way, to be honest.

Well...most of the time, at least.

Today? Maybe not.

Her mobile started ringing once she let Toby out f his cage, and she plopped her arse in her favourite chair and answered it, frowning that it was a number she didn’t recognize calling. “Hello?”

“You need to collect your lovers,” she heard Mycroft’s now familiar voice say in a rather stressed tone. She was quite familiar with his presence, as he was keeping close tabs on Irene to make sure she stayed on her best behavior. 

Somehow, she got the feeling today, she hadn’t, and she’d dragged Sherlock into it.

“Are they in a holding cell of some sort?” she asked with a sigh. “Because they can sit there for a little bit until I’ve had a nap. Double shift and vet appointment.”

“It’s a bit...difficult...to explain,” Mycroft said. “But they are not in a holding cell. Rather, they are in Her Majesty’s bedchamber.”

Molly’s eyes widened. “What?”

“The three are currently engaged in a heated game of strip poker and Her Majesty has gotten them down to one article of clothing each, but they won’t stop playing.”

Molly was part stunned and part in awe of the brass ones both Irene and Sherlock must have had to challenge Queen Elizabeth II to _strip poker_. “I’ll...umm, I’ll be right there,” she said.

“A car is waiting outside,” he said. “Please, get them to stop while they have some dignity left.”

“I’ll _try_ ,” Molly promised before getting up. Too bad she didn’t have any of the good wine left to fortify herself. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you,” Mycroft said before hanging up on her. She sighed and went back to her coat. Oh, she couldn’t _wait_ to hear the explanation for this...


	2. Chapter 2

**Now**

The door opened and the three of them trudged in, Irene in Sherlock’s coat and Sherlock in merely a sheet, both of them carrying their articles of clothing folded with care. Molly walked in behind them and yawned, a diamond brooch pinned to her jumper. 

“You should have taken the CBE,” Irene said, depositing her pile of clothing on the end table next to the sofa and then plopping down on the sofa and leaning on the arm.

“This brooch was commissioned for Queen Victoria by Prince Phillip,” Molly said with a smirk, looking down at the brooch. “I could very well ask the bloody Queen to take off a stitch of clothing, could I?”

“She was enjoying taking ours,” Sherlock grumbled, plopping down next to Irene and dropping his clothes on the floor in front of him. Irene leaned int him as Molly joined him on the other side.

“I would too if I were her,” Molly said, leaning her head on Sherlock’s shoulder. “But you should have taken me in the first place. I’m very cross with the both of you.”

“No you aren’t,” Irene said with a smile. “I mean, you get to say you beat Her Majesty in strip poker. In 2020. That’s a rather big deal.”

“I suppose,” Molly said, pursing her lips.

“But Irene is right,” Sherlock said. “You could be Dame Molly Hooper in a few year’s time.”

Molly shrugged and then snuggled into Sherlock. “Not that that wouldn’t have been nice, but you’re supposed to get knighted first, you know. Then I can work on finagling a Damehood at another poker match.”

“Another one?” Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow and looking down at the top of Molly’s head.

“Well, she does want the chance to win the brooch back, and I may just let her,” Molly said, punctuating the sentence with another yawn. “I am still cross, though. I had a long day and the house is a disaster and Toby has pills to take, and all I want to do is sleep.”

Sherlock pressed a kiss in her hair. “Then sleep in the guest room and we’ll fix our mess.”

“And give Toby his pills,” Irene added.

“And even replace the wine, and maybe have dinner sorted by the time you wake up from your nap,” Sherlock finished. But there was no response and he eased away to find Molly had fallen asleep against him. He turned to Irene. “She really was tired.”

“Well, she beat the Queen at how many hands?” Irene asked, looking at Molly with a fond smile. “Go carry her to our bed and we’ll deal with the messes here. She deserves something good after the day she’s had.”

“We can get Mycroft to--” Sherlock began, easing away from Molly.

“ _No_. I do not want to see his gloating voice or hear his gloating face.” She paused, then frowned. “I don’t think that came out right.”

“Next time we challenge Queen Lizzie to poker, we do so sober. Agreed?” Sherlock asked, gently lowering Molly to the sofa once he was out from under her.

“Agreed,” Irene said. Sherlock leaned over and kissed the top of Irene’s head, then picked Molly up off the sofa and headed towards the stairs. It hadn’t been the best day in terms of their pride, but Molly had saved the day, just as she always did. And she still loved her two idiots and they, in turn, loved her. A good ending, all in all.


End file.
